The Caged Beast
by DuchessRaven
Summary: It was in those first few days of their meeting that their bond formed. Alucard x Young Integra
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story won't be a long as some of the others. It's focused on the first few days that Alucard and Integra came into each other's company and how they got to know each other in the dungeon.

Enjoy & Review!

THE CAGED BEAST

PART 1

When the gun went off, she didn't hear it.

When the body hit the floor, she didn't see it.

There was sweat in her eyes and her hear was pounding so loudly that the rest of the world was entirely drowned out. Her body trembled from the adrenaline and she could smell blood, blood, and more blood. Something was rattling. The gun in her hand. She gripped it tighter, tight enough for her little knuckles to turn white.

Then the support under her wrist was gone, and her hands fell like a ton of bricks. The gun's barrel met the stone floor with a loud "clack".

"You can let go now," said a voice she didn't recognize. She blinked, then wiped the sweat out of her eyes with one hand and quickly gripped the gun again. The vampire kneeing in front of her let out an amused chuckle. His hair, almost as long as her entire body and white as a bone picked clean, tickled her leg. She quickly pulled it under her and aimed the gun at his forehead.

He didn't move. She wasn't sure why she did that. After all, he just saved her life. But instinct and her father's words had long taught her not to trust vampires, and she intended to follow them.

"Are you going to shoot me?" he asked.

She swallowed thickly. "Maybe."

"You are quite unobservant." He motioned at the pile of bodies on the floor, but she did not take her eyes off him. "Did you not see those men waste their bullets?"

She said nothing. She had noticed, and of course guns were ineffective against vampires. She knew that. It was pride that made her do it. At the moment, she was completely at the creature's mercy, and she liked to think she had a fighting chance, just in case he was saving her for last. He had a look in his eyes, the way a cat would look at a wounded bird.

Not fazed in the least by her fighting intent, he stood and rose to his full height. The light pouring from the dungeon doors allowed her a good look at him. He was very tall, easily over six feet, and very thin. His body was beyond gaunt, as was his face, which was sunken and bore a gray hue. His hand hung the entire length of his torso, almost to his knees. His arms and legs were long and graceful. Every inch of his skin save for his face was bound by an oddly designed leather strait suit, broken straps hung here and there.

He had been left down here, at least for her entire lifetime. The leather looked beyond old. It was decrepit. By all definition, he should be dead, which he apparently was until a moment ago. The stinging wound on her reminded her how he came to be – the taste of her blood.

Had it been Richard's blood, would he have followed her uncle? She didn't want to think about the consequences of that turn of events.

He looked at her with his sunken red eyes. Eyes of the undead. She shuddered. The barrel of the gun lowered slowly until it hit the floor again. She wanted to ask him some questions, but it was pretty hard to decide which one to start with. Seeing her hesitation, the vampire ran a hand through his long hair and turned away.

"Have you ever seen a real vampire feed?" he asked, stepped to the nearest body.

She shook her head. His back was turned, but she knew he somehow saw.

"Then you may not want to stay for this."

Shakily, she stood, one hand on the wall for support. Her knees chattered weakly. It was difficult to walk, but she somehow managed to get to the stairs, where she gripped the railings and climbed the steps one at a time. Behind her, she heard the wet echo of fangs sinking into soft flesh. She didn't want to turn around.

"Alucard," she muttered to herself. Such a unique name. Until now, she never thought vampires could have names, it was always something that died along with their humanity.

The dungeon door was heavy, but she closed it behind her.

oOo

When she reached the ground floor, reality hit her like an arrow to the gut and she nearly collapsed on the drawing room floor.

Everyone was gone. Her father was dead, his body in the ground. Walter, as well as most of the household staff, were gone, sent away by her uncle. The only people left had been her uncle and his thugs, all of whom were now food for the vampire, which her father had apparently left in the dungeons.

Hellsing's secret weapon, that's what he had said. Should she find herself in trouble, she should go to the dungeons.

The house had never looked so big as it did now, and silence had never seemed so loud. She dragged herself to the nearest sofa and sat down in it, unsure of what to do next. There was no way to contact Walter. She didn't even know where he was. He won't be back for another five days at least. Her uncle had given himself plenty of time to get rid of her. Walter didn't even know his master had passed on. She was sure Richard didn't contact the butler so he could rush back to her defense.

She was the new family head. That fact carried enormous weight. Her body was numb. There were just too many questions. What should she do? Who should she contact? What was going to happen next?

What happens when the vampire in the basement emerges?

That one bothered her the most. That thing was going to be inside her house, alone with her. Night was falling outside. The red light of dusk veiled the room with a bloody red. Alone in the night with a vampire. He was bound to finish feeding soon. What could she do once he realizes she was the only one in the house with no help or witnesses?

She sat in the sofa and waited. Ten minutes. Then twenty. Then an hour. The vampire did not appear. Another hour passed. She turned on a lamp and sat in its light. It did not make her feel any safer.

Finally, she stood up and exited the drawing room, turning on every light she could find along the way. The vampire was nowhere to be seen. She even peeked nervously down to the dungeon. The door was still shut. Whatever it was the vampire was doing, he has not emerged from his prison.

Integra did the only thing that made sense. She made herself dinner. Toast and fried eggs. At least there was plenty of food in the house. She wouldn't die on an empty stomach. She ate in the kitchen, not wanting to sit at the large dining table alone. Until this moment, she hadn't realized she was starving.

After dinner, the vampire still did not emerge. Images of the creature covered in the blood of her uncle and his men entered her mind. One of them had lost half his head right in front of her eyes. It was too much. Too much for a child. She tried to block it out. It wasn't as easy as novels and soap operas made it look.

Time crawled by in the empty house. The grandfather clock her father always hated ticked away in the corner of the library. When Integra was five years old, he once lifted her up and let her draw on the cuckoo bird with a green marker when it popped out on the hour. A sob threatened to escape. She suppressed it. There was no one around, but she still refused to cry. She was tired. So very tired.

Not wanting to climb the stairs to her bedroom alone, she found an old blanket in a hall closet and laid down on the drawing room couch. She left the lights on and tried to doze, but her eyes wouldn't close. Every time sleep drew near, she would hear some phantom noise that brought paranoia. Midnight came and went, and she was still awake, dark circles underneath her blue eyes.

Finally, she sat up again. Her brain was buzzing from exhaustion, but she knew she would not be able to sleep. Not right now. Gathering up the blanket in her arms, she got off the couch and sought a different course of action.

She walked around the house, mindlessly wandering. The library, the dining room, her father's office, now hers, the meeting room where the chairs seemed enormous. Some time later, she found herself at the door leading to the dungeons once more.

There was a symbol drawn on the door, a round insignia whose outer line would break when the door was opened. It must have kept the vampire inside all this time, sealing it away. How long exactly had it been down here? Years? Decades? Centuries even? She was pretty sure this house wasn't that old, but then again, there was a lot she didn't know.

She laid a hand on the door, and hesitated. She wasn't sure what she was doing down here. Why come here again? The vampire may not even be inside. It may have gotten loose and was either roaming the house or has fled, leaving her completely alone. That would be fine with her. Integra took a deep breath and clutched the blanket. She was too tired to think this through. She just wanted to make sure whether it was still here.

The heavy door creaked open slowly.

She stuck her head inside. At first she saw nothing, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the figure kneeling on the floor, the only moving one among the five still ones.

The vampire named Alucard looked up. Her heart leapt.

"Good evening, master."

She stood at the top of the stairs. Perhaps thinking she had no intention to descend, Alucard returned to his task. Around his knees were long strands of silvery hair, strewn about carelessly. As Integra watched, he rolled another strand around his finger and cut it away with a pocket knife. She recognized it as her uncle's.

"What are you doing?"

He rolled another strand. "Trimming my hair, master," he replied. The word 'master' was strangely comforting. Each time he said it, she felt just a bit braver. "I thought my appearance was getting to be rather ghastly."

She walked down a little further and saw that in addition to his hair, he had also torn away most of the leather bindings. Not merely taken them off, torn them up like an animal. Bits and pieces lay on the floor, like the skin of a fresh kill. She guessed he must have been glad to be rid of them. His bare torso was well-muscled and as pale as his face. Though he wasn't so ghostly white as before, she noticed. His skin had taken on a slightly rosier sheen, and his face didn't look quite so skeletal anymore. There was a single splash of blood across his taunt stomach.

He cut away the last strand of hair, set the knife aside, and stood. His hair, now silvery gray instead of a dry white, was tousled and loose, just touching his shoulders. He shook a lock out of his red eyes and bowed to her, catching her off guard. She almost bowed back.

"What can I do for you this evening, master?" he asked. "I apologize for my appearance. There was a time when I could perform such physical alterations on my own, but I fear it would take some time for me to recover after the imprisonment."

He didn't say that last word with bitterness or resentment, merely stating it as a fact. Integra took another step down and eyed the bodies on the floor apprehensively. The scent of flood was overwhelming. She shielded her nose with the blanket. There were streaks and spots of red everywhere. The walls, the stairs, the floor, even the railing. The vampire seemed to read her mind.

"I apologize for the mess," he said. Turning, he picked up the nearest body as if it weighed no more than a doll, and moved it to the corner, then repeated with the others until they were tucked away in the shadows, out of sight. "That is the best I can do now. Should you return tomorrow, I shall try to tidy up some more."

She didn't want to go down, but seeing how Alucard had made such an effort to clear the floor, she took a deep breath and walked to the bottom of the steps, careful not to slip on any blood that had not yet dried and wrapping the blanket around herself to shield from the chill. "Are you going to stay down here?" she asked.

He smirked as if it was a joke. "That, master, is up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"My previous master, your father, had ordered that I should stay here until my new master orders otherwise. That is you. Therefore, until you give me the freedom to venture from this room, I am to remain here."

The amount of power she had over him shocked her. Integra looked around the vampire's stony prison. It seemed such an awful place for one dwell, dark and full of the stench of the dead. But then again, he didn't seem to mind. After all, he himself was no longer among the living.

"OK," she said, sitting down on the bottom step and pulling the blanket tightly around her body, no longer afraid. "Then you will stay down here, until I decide I can trust you."

"I cannot even step out of a room without your permission, and yet you do not trust me?"

Integra yawned, suddenly very sleepy. "I will decide when I can trust you," she said groggily.

Alucard chuckled. "You really are that man's daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Her body felt stiff when she woke up. Integra rubbed her eyes and with a start realized she had spent the night on the dungeon floor. Sitting up, she groaned at the pain in her back and hips after a night of nothing but a blanket over the stones.

The previous day felt like a dream. For a moment she thought she had wandered down here in the night and dreamed of the whole incident with her uncle, his henchmen, and a vampire. Her foggy mind cleared slowly, and slowly separated memories from dreams. The world swam into focus, and she saw the figure by the wall.

He looked the same, his white torso bare and his silver hair chopped short by his own hands. He was sitting with his back against a far wall, his right arm resting on one raised knee. He appeared to be dozing. On his arm, she saw the hole his uncle had put into it with a bullet meant for her. There was no blood. In fact, it looked several days old, as if it was healing slowly. She had read that certain powerful vampires could heal themselves, but had never seen it happen.

It was also the first time she noticed his gloves. Though he had stripped off much of the leather bounding, he had left his white gloves on.

She wrinkled her nose. Something was different. Looking around, she saw that there was not a spot of blood in the room. In the hidden corner, the bodies were also gone. Every trace of the previous day's massacre had disappeared without a trace.

But the vampire was still there. Integra got to her feet and considered running up the stairs and shutting the door for good. But it was the sight of that hole on his arm that made her stop. He had protected her, and hadn't he promised to clean up the place? He somehow managed it. She was impressed. Besides, he had said she was his master. She should act like it.

So, instead of running, she walked up to him and poke him on the cheek.

Actually, she didn't manage it. While her finger was less than an inch away, a hand came up and blocked it, nearly making her jump.

"I thought you were asleep."

He lowered his hand, red eyes sneering at her. "I never fall completely asleep. I made that mistake once and look where it landed me."

That sounded like an interesting story, but Integra felt there were more pressing matters at hand. She made a mental note to ask about it later. "What did you do with the bodies?"

"I think I ought to spare you the details, master. They're not appropriate for a little girl."

She slapped him.

She didn't intend on doing it, but before she knew it, her hand had connected with his face. She couldn't even express the shock she felt at herself. Where had it come from? She took a step back and saw that, instead of anger or surprise, the vampire was smiling.

"I had been waiting for that," he said.

Her hand felt numb. She had hit him pretty hard, though it hardly left a mark. Anger was boiling over inside her.

Little girl.

He always called her that. Her uncle. Her despicable, conniving uncle. Little girl. Little girl. Little girl.

For years she took it. Took his abuse, took his insults behind her father's back, took it when he called her "little girl" with a fake smile in front of others. She was always a little girl to him, nothing but a little girl. Nothing but a worthless little girl. And now he's died at the hands of the little girl he once looked down upon.

She never thought about how much it bothered her until now.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered.

The vampire waved the apology away. "No matter," he said. "I will let him know it was meant for him." She thought she understood what he meant, but didn't ask. "Besides, master, this ought to be a reminder for you. You are the head of this house now. You do not have to apologize for your actions to your servants." Leaning to the side, he moved his face close to hers, and she could feel his radiating chill. He smelled like the earth, the dirt where life grew and the dead were buried. "You can beat me all you want," he whispered to her, his cold lips inches from her face. "You can chain me up and whip me like a dog, burn my skin, cut out my tongue, and I'll take it all without complaint."

She shuddered. "Why?"

"Because you are my master."

Integra turned away quickly, trying to hide the trembles shaking her body. She cleared her throat, which suddenly felt dry, and headed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some bandages," she declared.

"Are you wounded, master?"

"It's for your arm."

"That won't be necessary." He raised his arm. "This wound will heal soon enough, and once I am at my fullest, a wound like this won't take more than five seconds to heal."

She didn't know if he was bragging or not. "Still," she said from the stairs. "It will help to bandage it up."

Alucard got to his feet and came to the bottom of the stairs. At first she thought he was going to follow her, but he stopped. "I hate to be a killjoy, master," he said, "but the only thing that would help in the healing of this wound would be my coffin."

She blinked.

"Your father did educate you on basic vampire lore, did he not? Unfortunately, most of it is true."

Yes, of course. It was coming back to her. Vampires must sleep in a coffin to recharge their bodies. One of the reasons Alucard had shriveled up so much must have been his separation from his coffin. If her father had tended for him to serve her, than his coffin must be stashed somewhere nearby.

He was looking at her. Perhaps it was all in her head, but there was something in his eyes that said there was no way she could bring him his coffin, so she might as well settle on bandages like a good little girl.

"Where is it?"

He raised his brows. She took it as a challenge. "Are you quite serious?"

"I asked you where it is."

He was amused. "As far as I know, somewhere in this dungeon. Your father would not have wanted it kept in the house above."

"Wait here," she told him.

oOo

The coffin was indeed in the dungeons. Though she had never ventured down here before now, she knew where Walter kept the keys. At least once every few months, he would point them out to her, as if making sure she always knew she had access to it when needed. Did he know about the vampire, or had her father instructed him to tell her about them? It didn't matter anymore. As she fished the keys out of a hidden drawer compartment in the kitchen, she wandered how she was going to explain this to the butler when he returned.

Aside from Alucard's keep, there were several other rooms in the dungeon. She opened each one with care, half expecting more vampires to be kept there, but there were only piles of old documents and equipment. Just as well, she didn't think she could handle two vampires by herself.

After opening nearly all the doors, she almost gave up, thinking it wasn't to be found, but in the second to last door, she saw it, stashed under a tarp, topped with boxes and boxes of old books.

It was huge, and nothing like the coffins she'd seen anywhere. For one, it looked brand new, despite the thick layer of dust on its exposed corners. There were cobwebs all over the boxes and the tarp. The books were too heavy for her to move all at once, so she took them out of the box and tossed them aside. The tarp let loose a torrent of dust when she pulled it off, sending her into a fit of coughs. Finally the coffin was entirely exposed. It was black as the night and absolutely flawless, not a single nick or dent. Across the lid were two lines of letters. She squinted to read them.

The bird of Hermes is my name. Eating my wings to make me tame.

Weird. Just one more thing to ask the vampire about later. Now came the real problem. Circling behind the thing, she took a deep breath, and pushed with all her might.

It barely budged an inch, scraping against the floor painfully. The sudden effort nearly knocked the wind out of her. Gasping, she straightened. It was much too heavy for her. How was she supposed to move it down the hall and down all those stairs? She considered allowing Alucard out to help her, but two words echoed in her mind again.

Little girl.

She rolled up her sleeves and tied her hair back. She was going to move this herself, even if it was one inch at a time.

And that was what she did. Straining hard, she pushed against the coffin. It moved, very, very slowly, making quite the terrible sound as it grinded against the hard floor. She was thankful that she wasn't pushing this thing on a carpeted surface. At least the stone was fairly smooth, progress could be made when she got a momentum going.

She pushed it, using every possible muscle in her body to move the thing. Why the hell was it so heavy? No matter. She wasn't about to lose. Her face was covered with dirt and sweat, and her clothes were filthy. She took a breather half way down the hall and kept going.

The whole process took and hour and a half, though it felt more like ten, moving the coffin an inch at a time. Finally, at last, she got it to the door of Alucard's keep. He was still at the bottom of the steps, or perhaps he took a nap while she was moving his coffin and returned. Looking down, she saw him gazing up, looking both impressed and surprised.

"You actually managed it," he said. "I must say I didn't expect you to."

How insulting. Nudging the coffin to the top of the steps, she steadied herself against the door and give it a hard kick with her foot. "Catch!" she called as it tipped over the edge and went tumbling down the steps. She thought she heard a "whoa!" coming from beneath as it went crashing down.

She waited for the landing. When it didn't come, she peeked over again. Alucard had caught the coffin and was carrying it as if it weighed next to nothing. He set it aside and turned back to her. "As much as I appreciate the effort, master," he said, "I must ask that you be more careful with my coffin."

Brushing as strand of hair out of her dirty face, Integra scoffed. "Then you shouldn't have doubted me."

He shrugged. "Fair enough." A pause. "Thank you, master."

He mean it. She could tell. She watched him lift the lid, exposing the red silk lining inside. "You're welcome," she said. "So what are you going to do now?"

He gestured at the coffin as if it should be obvious. "I'm going to sleep. The sun is out outside and the last twenty years haven't exactly been restful. Therefore, unless my master orders otherwise, I will be retiring for the day."

Integra twisted her finger in her hair, thinking. "Alright." She began to turn away, then suddenly remembered certain lessons Walter had given her on the basic etiquette of a good hostess. Though the vampire was not exactly a guest, she found herself poking her head back into the dungeons again. "Do you need anything?"

The question managed to catch him off guard. He looked at her hard, as if trying to figure out if it was a joke.

"Hurry up," she snapped. "If you're going to serve me, I can't have you rotting away down here, right?"

He sneered. "You mean rot away down here again?"

"Do you want anything or not?"

He thought for a moment. "Water."

"To drink?"

"To wash."


	3. Chapter 3

PART 3

When she ventured out of the dungeons, it was nearly noon. The sun was indeed high and hot outside. Though eerily silent, the house no longer looked as scary as it did the night before, perhaps because she was no longer so afraid of the "boogeyman" in the basement. This was the first time in her life she had started the day so alone.

Well, not entirely alone, but somehow the vampire didn't quite count. She didn't even know if she could trust him yet. And Walter, what would Walter say when he came back? Maybe he'd be upset that Integra let the monster lose in the first place and immediately lock the dungeons back up. If that's the case, then it's best she left it where it was.

He, she corrected herself. Alucard was not just a creature. In fact, it seemed he'd been in this house longer than she had. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but it didn't seem appropriate. Wasn't he down there in the first place because she shouldn't know about him?

She headed up stairs, stripped off her dirty clothes and, after a moment of hesitation, tossed them on the floor in a pile. There was no one around to scold her, and there never will be again. Though it was probably wise not to listen to the words of a vampire, he was right in that she was now the master of the house, and the master of the house could toss her laundry on the floor if she so pleased.

She ran a hot bath, so hot her skin turned red as she submerged her body into it. She scrubbed herself clean; took her time washing her hair. It wasn't until her arm began to sting that she remembered the wound on it. The shot from her uncle's gun. There must have been blood all over her sleeve and she hadn't even noticed. After she got out, she found the bandages and wrapped it up. No magic coffin in her world.

As she did this, she saw herself in the mirror. How must Alucard have seen her down there? So small, so frightened, with arms and legs like twigs, pointing that big gun at him. It was a miracle he didn't laugh at her. Hell, she wanted to laugh at herself. Her father always said she would grow up to be a beautiful woman. She simply couldn't imagine it.

Her father's face came to mind. At his funeral, she hadn't cried. There were so many people there, important men and women, not to mention her uncle, all looking at her, waiting for her break down, act like the little girl her uncle must have constantly described to them. She hadn't cried. After that, she spent most of her time hiding from her uncle and his goons. She had been deprived of her grieving. She didn't want to grieve now. She didn't want to look her own weakness in the mirror. So she occupied herself by brushing her hair. It only worked for so long. The tears came anyway, but she kept brushing, sitting there with a towel around her flat chest and tears pouring down her calm face.

Though she hadn't eaten since the previous night, she didn't feel hungry. Leaving her schoolgirl outfit on the floor, she fished through the closet and dressed herself in a white blouse and gray pants. The dress had been a hindrance when she crawled in the air ducts, and she made a mental note, still wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, that she would wear dresses as little as possible from now on. Looking at herself in the mirror once more, she imagined a gun strapped to her belt. That may be necessary now that she was in a position of power.

Power.

Power.

She never felt like she had power before.

Laying down on the bed, she planned to rest for a moment and think things through, but sleep took over before she even made herself comfortable.

oOo

When she woke, it was night once more. She could faintly hear the drawing room clock strike twelve. The witching hour; what a fitting time for her to wake. She sat in bed and smoothed the wrinkles out of her clothing.

Water.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear. She ought to bring water to the vampire so he could wash up. Her pet vampire. Her servant. It was going to take some time to get used to that idea. Even stranger was the idea that he desired to wash. She was always under the impression that vampires didn't exactly place personal hygiene high on their list of priorities. Then again, Alucard was different. She just wasn't sure how different he was yet.

From the kitchen, she found a large basin and filled it with water from the faucet. When it was half full, Integra considered heating it up, but decided it probably didn't make a difference to the vampire anyway. When it was almost full, she turned off the flow, threw a washcloth over the side of the basin, and started toward the dungeons.

The trip there didn't seem so scary this time. In fact, she found herself a bit excited at seeing the vampire again. Once the initial apprehension wore off, he fascinated her to no end. As she thought about all the questions she could ask him, she failed to notice that the steps were closer than she thought.

The first of the dungeon steps caught her off guard. She slipped and fell backward, the basin of water falling unceremoniously from her hands. She let out a small shriek and dropped backwards as her arms shot out to grab onto something. They only found air and she braced for the impact of stone against the back of her skull.

A hand held her up.

She paused. The basin of water was there, too. Some of it had spilled onto the steps, flowing down one step at a time like a miniature waterfall. There was a strange, blurred shape supporting its base, the same as the one that held her from behind.

"You should be more careful," said a familiar voice from the darkness. The hand behind her dropped away and she sat heavily onto the stone steps, eyes still wide from shock. "You can't go cracking your head against rocks just after I took all those bullets for you. It'd be quite a waste, don't you think?"

She looked down as the basin of water was carried away from her by the odd-looking limb. It seemed to retract downward, into the dark. Alucard appeared at the bottom step. The long limb was coming from him. But it wasn't either of his arms, which hung at his sides. The limb protruded from his back like a tentacle. As she watched, it set the basin of water down on the floor and disappeared seamlessly into his body. He favored her with a grin.

"Good thing I've recovered enough to perform that little trick." He looked down at the water. "Thank you, master. I thought you had forgotten about me."

Regaining her senses, Integra stood quickly. "Of course not," she said heatedly. "I just fell asleep is all."

"Perhaps you'd like to return to your room and continue resting? I can take it from here."

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine now."

Alucard shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Kneeling by the basin, he took the washcloth and wrung it over his upturned face. A stream of water rolled over his face and neck, down his chest, shoulders, and stomach. His appearance had changed again, Integra noticed with a strange discomfort. His hair was almost completely dark now, and his skin held a slightly warmer hue. His muscles had rounded out a bit and so longer looked as gaunt and dry as before.

As he scrubbed himself with the washcloth, Integra realized she was staring. Trying to hide the rising color on her cheeks, she turned away from him.

"I could change my form for you."

She started. "What?"

"I do not have to stay this form, although this is the one I am most comfortable in, as it somewhat resembles what I used to look like as a human. But I can be anything your heart desires."

She thought he was teasing her. But, sneaking a glance, she saw that he was still washing himself, speaking without a shred of expression on his face. He was completely serious.

"As my master, your father had instructed I take a certain form. At the time, I had a partner. He was very young and your father wanted me to take a form that put the boy more at ease. Now, you are my master, and I could be any from you wish for me to be."

He looked her way and she quickly turned away again. "I don't know," she said hesitantly.

"Though I was originally male," the vampire continued, following by another splash of water, "I can become either gender. I could become a teenager for you, if you wish, or take on the appearance of someone older, if it makes you feel more secure. If you want, I could be your playmate now, and your lover later."

Those last few words made her blush even more. Lover… was she too young to think of such things?

"I think," she said, trying not to stammer and show her discomfort, "you're fine like this."

There was a pause. Then the sound of water splashing resumed. "Alright, if you wish."

But his words stuck, and Integra struggled to find a change of topic. "What was your partner like?" she asked at last.

An amused chuckle. "A hell-bent brat if I ever saw one. He was no more than a year or two older than you when we worked together. That was a long time ago, the second world war, I believe. He was loud, obnoxious, and had a habit of talking before finishing a thought. But he was quite intelligent and more than capable. I dare say there's not another human in the world who fights like that one did. In peace times, he made a decent companion. With the way he lived, alternating between chain smoking and gunfire, I would guess he is either crippled or dead by now, but regretting nothing."

"Were you friends?"

"You could say that." The sound of water stopped. Integra turned ever so slightly to see the vampire wringing water out of his hair, plastered smoothly against his scalp. "At times, Walter and I were…"

"Walter?"

He looked at her. "Yes. His name was Walter Dolnez. It was believed that there may be some traces of nobility to his last name, but no one ever found out."

A million thoughts raced through Integra's head. Walter's old stories of war, the newspaper articles she read in her father's library, those rumors of the old butler's victories against the Nazis…

"Walter is still here." She said. "He's just fine. He's not crippled or dead."

Alucard laughed. He had a softer laugh than she expected. "Interesting," he said, "I'd say 'I'll be damned', but I don't think I can be any more damned than I already am. So the Angel of Death managed to survive all these years. Maybe it's fate. He must be in his sixties by now."

"He's 59, I think."

"Have you informed him of my awakening yet?"

"He's not here. No one is. He'll be back in a couple of days."

A spark. Had she imagined it? The air in the room suddenly grew heavy. She swallowed thickly as Alucard set the washcloth back in the basin. He was looking at her. Something about his gaze made her insides turn uncomfortably.

"Tell me, Integra," he said slowly. She shuddered when he said her name. "Are we alone in this house?"


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is it. Sorry this one's rather short.

PART 4

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination playing tricks, but the dungeon suddenly grew cold. Integra scooted back against the wall as Alucard straightened and approached her. His eyes glowed like burning coal, and all the light in the dungeons seemed to have drained away, into those blazing eyes. A few steps closer, and he dropped to his knees, eyes still fixated on her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hearing the fear in her voice. Terror found her once more, and she suddenly realized how foolish she was to believe she would be safe alone with a vampire.

He smirked. "Playing," he purred, as he crawled toward her on hands and knees. His body was changing, melting away, shifting like smoke as he moved.

For a brief moment all she could see were his eyes. Then she blinked, and they changed from red to blue. She was looking into a mirror. A sneering double of herself looked back.

"Wh-what…"

"What's wrong, master?" the copy of herself asked. Its voice was even an echo of her own. "I thought you weren't afraid of me."

She shivered and pressed her back against the wall. The copy crawled a bit closer, its blond locks touching her knees. "Why…"

"I wanted to see," said the copy, reaching out and sliding a strand of Integra's hair through her fingers, "what it's like to be you. It's interesting. Though I cannot mimic the heat of your body, I feel like I can understand a little about your heart in this form."

Integra shook her hair out of the double's grasp. "Stop it."

The reflection of her face melted away like a ball of wax in high heat. It was the most unnerving sight to behold. The long strands of blond were replaced by black. A moment later her carbon copy had morphed into a completely different person, a young girl no older than herself, with streams of black hair spilling over her shoulders. Integra saw with an uneasy twinge that she was nude.

"Your heart is pounding," said the girl, drawing her knees up in front of her, black hair covering her bare front. "Is it your nerves? Your heart? Or your loins that's making it pound? The fickleness of human hearts make it pound often."

Something had changed. Just a moment ago the vampire was speaking to her like a human, carrying on an unassuming conversation. Now it was in front of her, toying with her. She felt like a dormouse in front of a cat.

The girl leaned in close, her bare skin separated from hers only by the thin fabric of Integra's clothing. "Did your father ever tell you you're pretty, master?" she cooed, and pecked Integra's cheek with her cold lips. "This is the form I took for both Walter and Arthur. They told me I was pretty, too."

How easy it was for it to rattle her, treat her like a toy. One moment she felt completely secure and safe, the next she was chilled to the very core of her being.

"Why aren't you saying anything, Integra?"

The vampire caressed her face with cold fingers.

"I thought you liked me. I saw you watching while I was washing."

Her face burned despite the vampire's frosty fingertips.

"Unfortunately," the vampire said as she sat back cross-legged on the floor. The cold didn't seem to bother it one bit. "Not all my forms are so pleasing to the eye."

Something moved to her right. She turned just in time to see something long and many-legged crawl into the shadows. Then another to her left. And another. With a shriek she sprung to her feet as a swarm of black centipedes ran past. She tried to stomp on them but more and more appeared.

The dark-haired girl was laughing. The centipedes were crawling all over her. No, they were coming from her. Integra watched with a hint of nausea as another fat centipede emerged from underneath her dark locks.

"This is part of my form, too," said the vampire, completely undisturbed by the crawling creatures. "They are a part of me. They carry my life's blood." With two nimble fingers she picked up a wiggling centipede. "Here. They won't bite."

Integra wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and run from the house, away from its stifling walls and the creature it housed. The vampire dropped the centipede into the swarm on the floor and grinned at her. Its face was eerily, sickeningly, pretty.

Its eyes were laughing. They were laughing at her. She could almost hear it.

"Stop it." It sounded so stupid, so weak. Any moment now those creepy crawlies would overcome her, bury her, and eat her alive. "Stop it right now."

The centipedes disappeared. It took her a moment to notice they were gone. As quickly as they'd come, they vanished into thin air. Light returned to the room, lighting the walls and floors dimly, just enough for her to see that they were indeed nowhere to be seen. The vampire stood.

"As you wish, master," it said, and bowed.

Integra rubbed her face and smacked her hands against her cheeks, trying to clear her head. The vampire waited for her to finish.

"Change back," she said, and added for good measure, "I'll go get some clothes for you."

"No need, master," replied the vampire as its form broke into smoke. A few seconds later he stood in front of her, once again a man, instead of the monster from a moment ago. It amazed her how he could shift from one to the other so quickly.

He had dressed himself in a dark suit, topped by a Victorian style coat, red as his eyes. Around his neck he wore an ascot. The whole getup reminded her of the European gentlemen she saw in old movies.

They stood in silence, facing each other. Realizing her fists were clenched, Integra put a considerable amount of effort into loosening them.

"Why did you do that?"

Alucard smiled. It was almost kind. "To show you just how ugly I am."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, "to master a vampire, you must not become bewitched by one. Vampires are enchanters, I'm sure you know that. A low vampire only knows to attack. A higher vampire knows how to lure in its prey with charm."

He ran a hand through his hair and Integra couldn't help but notice how dashing he was. It was as if he exuded allure and a strange magnetism.

"This isn't about vanity or conceit," he continued. "I am well-aware of how many beautiful faces I can put on. The reason I became used to this particular form, master, is because it once brought in the most prey. It is only because I see potential in you that I tell you this – always remember the monster that hides behind the pretty faces."

She couldn't tell whether he was talking down to her or not, but color was creeping back onto her face. The color of shame this time, at letting herself get carried away by his looks.

He was right, and that unnerved her.

"I saw you watching me." She averted his gaze. "I know that look. Don't become drawn to me. It's like a moth to a flame, and as the master, you cannot be the moth. You should by now begin to understand, just how much power you have over me. Although I must say." He chuckled. "You faired better than your father did under that little test."

"My father?"

"A good, capable man much too weak to the desires of the flesh. I had to bring out that dark side many times for him to understand just how veil-thin my beauty was. But when you're older…" Alucard spread his hands casually, "and have a better grasp of yourself, I would be happy to put on whatever pretty face you like, and do whatever it is you order."

"Stop that."

Reaching up, Integra pushed her glasses upward on her nose. Fear had melted away into annoyance.

"You can stop implying all of that," she told him. "I know what you're saying, and if you really think I'd allow myself to do… _that_ with you, then you're wrong. I have more important things to worry about. More over, there is something I find more repulsive than your dark forms, and that is your personality."

Alucard arched a brow and said nothing.

"Stop playing with me," she continued. "Stop toying with me, acting like a friend one minute and a monster the next. It's not helping me trust you, and with every word you say I can't help but doubt what it is you really want – to help me or to hurt me. I…I…"

She ran out of words. There was nothing else to say. She had thought she would storm out of the dungeons, or burst into tears, or at least something. But when the words disappeared she was still standing there, dry-eyed and waiting.

"I'm so tired," she said half to her herself after a long moment. "It's been a really bad couple of days."

"You should return to bed, master. Only condemned creatures like me prowl the night."

Integra sat down on the stone steps. "Would you stop calling yourself that?" she said, drawing her knees up to her chin. "It's really irritating me. Besides, you're not the only condemned one here, you know."

There was a pause. Then, to her surprise, he came to her and sat down a respectable distance away from her.

"I killed my uncle. Now I have to pick up on father's legacy all by myself. There has never been a female leader of Hellsing, not to the mention the Convention of Twelve. They're going to put me on a stand and lynch me."

"Possibly." At least he was honest. "But you are wrong about one thing – there had once been a female leader of Hellsing, before it was made of walls and weapons and soldiers, when it was just a small group set out to hunt down the most powerful vampire in the world armed with nothing but sticks, pistols, and folklores. It was a woman who led their way."

"You're talking about Mina Harker. But that was different."

"It was. She was the first. Now, as the second, you will surpass her."

"What if I can't?"

"Then you're giving yourself up to be condemned."

Arms and chin on her up-bent knee, Integra felt silent once more. She debated going upstairs and back to bed, but couldn't seem to find the will to. The house above was empty. At least here, she wasn't alone. Even if it was with this arrogant, irritatingly mysterious vampire. He didn't question what she wanted to do, merely sat there next to her, and waited.

"Who are you really?"

"Whoever you want me to be."

"Who did you used to be? Way back?"

"A king, a count, a murderer."

"Count Dracula?"

"Yes."

She smiled thinly. "I knew it."

oOo

She woke up in the dungeon for the second time. But there was no stone underneath her. Instead, there was silk. Integra sat up and felt something heavy and soft slide away from her torso. It was red.

"I thought you might be more comfortable there."

It didn't take long to spot his glowing eyes in the darkness. She pushed his coat off of her body. The fact that it was a manifested part of him only bothered her a little.

"Thanks," she muttered. "What should I do now?"

"Are you asking me?"

She met his eyes firmly. "So what if I am? Can you give me answers, Count?"

"I forsook that title long ago. But I do have an answer for you if you want it." He was still sitting on the step. Had he not moved her during the night, she would've thought he sat there unmoving all night. Without his coat, he wore a black suit that fitted his long form like a second skin. For a "condemned creature", he had very good taste.

"Just tell me."

"You should go. Get out of this damp dungeon and go do something in the light. Hiding in the dark is what turned me and many others into what we are now, and you don't want that. You've already spent too much time here."

She began to climb out of the coffin awkwardly. "What about you?"

"Did I already tell you that my fate is up to you?" He seemed neither saddened nor remorseful at the idea.

"Do you want to leave here?"

The question seemed to take him by surprise. "That is not up to me."

"But I'm asking you," she said stubbornly. "Do _you_ want to go out?"

"It would be nice," he replied, "to be out in the fresh air again, even if I no longer breathe. I haven't seen the moon in over twenty years."

"Then come."

She stepped past him without a pause and headed out of the dungeons. At the door, she stopped to look down. He had stood, but seemed to be hesitating.

"I am ordering you, as your master, for you to leave the dungeon," she said, "on the condition that you obey me without question or reservation."

"You have decided you can trust me?"

"I have decided I can begin to try."

The vampire stood at attention and bowed deeply. A faint red light appeared all around him, forming a complex pattern on the ground. When it faded, the same pattern appeared on his gloves. "In that case, master," he said, "the contract of servitude has been formed. I am at your service – body, mind, and soul."

END


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